The rough gem of Reykjavik

I had walked the streets of Reykjavik for three days before I had found it one evening while desperate for shelter from the cold winds whistling up from the grey sea. It was on the quay, directly in front the great fishing barges that haul in the catch of the day and unload it into ice crates and refridgerators then load it unt lorries for distribution. The cottage was small and dingy looking with a white door that hung almost from its hinges.
Still the locals seemed to pour in and out almost momentarily.
So drawing up my scarf yet again over my red wind whipped face I skidded across the street and joined them. Instantly the smells and the warmth dazed my senses and drew me in like a moth to the flame. The inside was a small one room space filled to capacity with people standing, sitting, eating and talking, and all of them seemingly enjoying themselves. To my left an open fridge boasted of raw fish and to my right three rows of bare benches and creaking tables were packed jam tight with strangers sitting next to each other like friends and family, and eating.
So after a look around I ordered myself a lobster soup at the till and fond myself a seat after an old couple rose and left as soon as they had finsihed eating to accomodate space. It took aproximately another five minutes for the soup to arrive and instantly I was intoxicated by its sweet and salty aroma rising up from the plastic cup.
I forced myself to wait another minute for the soup to cool down enough to actually be eaten then I swiftly dipped in my bread and took the first taste. Suddenly I felt myself transformed to streets of Reykjavik, walking alone in the white snow and the pale light between rows of white wooden houses with blue and red roofs with the families sitting inside to supper.
I quickly took a second bite then took to spoon and fork, and sunk into the bountiful liquid and chunks of fresh lobster likely just hauled in from the nets, and then another and another and all too soon the soup had gone, and I left to free up space for newcomers. Even to this day my only regret from that trip is not going back to that shop the following day after my day on the glacier for not even the majestic northern lights could have eclipsed that divine lobster soup and should anyone else find themselves in Reykjavik I heartily advise them to walk along the harbour and seek out that small hidden little room just half a mile from the townhall with the open fridge and the lobster soup.